


let's meet one more time

by avengersincamphalfbloodstardis



Category: Marvel
Genre: Holiday Fic Exchange, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21940789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis/pseuds/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis
Summary: It's difficult to meet someone for the first time when you aren't really you.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118
Collections: Winterhawk Wonderland





	let's meet one more time

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift for [geekgirlfibers](https://geekgirlfibers.tumblr.com/) for [Winterhawk Wonderland](https://winterhawkwonderland.tumblr.com/)! This was super fun to write, since I wanted to put a twist on the soulmate idea:) I hope you enjoy!

The first time the Winter Soldier met Clint Barton, he pulled him out of a dumpster. All beat up, 19 years old, 170 pounds soaking wet of him, blood leaking out of his nostrils past his cracked lips into his mouth.

“Sup,” the kid said as Winter grasped his shirt and hauled him out, grinning as his eyelids hung heavy. “Can you say something real quick? I wanna make sure my hearing aid isn’t busted.”

For a moment, Winter considered dropping him back in. Then, he said gruffly, “What?”   


“Awesome,” the kid said, grasping Winter’s wrists and wiggling forward to fully drop from the dumpster. “Thanks.”

Winter grunted a reply.

“Don’t s’pose you saw the goons that dropped me in there?” Clint asked, brushing at the front of his shirt, looking around.

“They’re taken care of,” Winter replied, not mentioning exactly how they were taken care of.

“Sweet,” Clint said, reaching back into the dumpster, lifting bow and arrows free. He turned back and lifted his arm, checking a watch that sat next to his soulmate timer. “Huh.”

Against his better judgement, Winter spoke. “What?”

Clint looked up, grin too bloody to be as wide as it was. “Thought my timer was wobbling for a minute. That’ve been weird huh? Think maybe that’s a sign of a concussion?”   


Winter nodded. He didn’t offer up the information that his own timer had halted years ago.

When it was clear that Winter wasn’t going to respond, Clint swung his bow over his shoulder. 

“Okay!” he said, giving Winter a jovial wave. “See you later!”

Winter watched him walk off unhurriedly, seeming uninterested in getting away as fast as he could, or in getting anywhere in particular it seemed. He seemed awfully innocent for the things Winter knew he’d done. 

Maybe it was that notion entirely that had made him get the kid out of the dumpster. He knew what it was like to be too innocent for your own actions.

The wind whistled past, catching a part on his arm that it shouldn’t have.

A patch of fabric was ripped on his sleeve; one of the goons, as Clint had called them, had managed to get in before Winter had snapped his neck.

He glanced down to see that the rip revealed his own timer, frozen though it was. As he looked, the numbers seemed to glitch, almost twitching on his skin before relaxing into their usual, unmoving state.

Huh. That was odd.

***

The first step he made onto the bank of the river, boots squelching uncomfortably, clothes hanging heavy, he was the Winter Soldier. The second step, he was Bucky. 

Not fully, not really. Not enough for all of his memories to come rushing back or for the ones he had to make sense.

But he was Bucky enough for his timer to start again.

***

It took him a long time to notice. 

It just wasn’t the first thing on his mind, obviously. He had plenty to concern himself with in just managing to get away from Hydra and hide out, keeping himself safe. That wasn’t even considering the choppy memories that kept floating back in and out of his conscious, the blurry faces that faded in and out. 

When he did notice, all he did for a long time was stare at it. It seemed an awfully short time left frankly, an amount of time he wasn’t sure he could work with. 

Who would he be exactly when he met this soulmate? He’d be Bucky enough to make the encounter meaningful, but would he still be wracked with the half-formed memories, the guilt, the nightmares?

How could he not be, with such a short time left to him? 

It was terrifying, really to look at his timer and know there was somewhere out there with a matching one, their number clicking down in unison. At least, he thought there must be someone out there like that, unless they’d faced something like he had, and their numbers were frozen too. Who would he meet then? Who would be on the other side of this countdown that was steadily growing into more of a problem than a relief for him?

His only hope would be that the person on the other side would understand him as best as anyone could. That that someone would maybe have even done some things that meant he could empathize with Bucky, see why those things had happened.

Maybe his soulmate was going to be just as messed up as he was now, and they would be a couple of messes together, working through the collasal shambles they had become.

At least, he could hope.

***

He began to get a little better. And then a little worse, and then a little better again. 

It was a process, his therapist told him. Well, not his therapist exactly; how could she be really his therapist when she thought her client was someone else entirely? She knew bits and pieces of Bucky’s issues.

They were in the same boat that way.

So he hid what he could from her, and shared what he was able, and began to work his life into a better place. 

He hoped, one day, maybe after his timer counted down until nothing was left, that he could find Steve, and get some answers. Maybe he’d even have his soulmate at his side when that happened. That seemed like something a soulmate would be good for.

***

As Bucky’s timer hit zero, he grasped the shirt of the man in the dumpster and pulled, hauling him forward.

This time, the face was older by quite a bit, but no less handsome for the age there. His smile was lazy, almost as if he were uninterested in the situation he found himself in, or rather, it simply wasn’t a big concern for him to keep getting pulled from dumpsters. His eyes, heavy lidded, surveyed Bucky.

Their eyes met finally and they watched each other for a long time.

“Hey,” Clint said, tone pleased. “Nice to finally meet you.”


End file.
